


Terms of Endearment

by T-Rex (tmishkin)



Series: The Adventures of Gus & John [2]
Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Awkward Helpful Laurence;, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Epistolary, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29367420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmishkin/pseuds/T-Rex
Summary: The long-awaited sequel to Rules of Engagement, in which John Granby and Gus Little are separated for far too long--with 40% more sexual activity than your average epistolary fiction, culminating in the scenic Rainforest Reunion!
Relationships: John Granby/Augustine Little
Series: The Adventures of Gus & John [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157219
Comments: 10
Kudos: 5





	Terms of Endearment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NonBinaryStars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonBinaryStars/gifts), [CMOTScribbler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMOTScribbler/gifts).



When John Granby was a little boy with a big broom, he used to pout as he swept the kitchen floor after supper. It was so dull! He wanted adventure, like being a soldier. Fighting His Majesty’s enemies—why, the broom could be a musket! He peered down the stick, looking for Frogs. There’s one. BAM!

His little sister ran screaming from the room.

Now Granby was a captain in His Majesty’s Aerial Corps, with a dragon who inspired nearly the same affection and irritation as his sister had so many years before, though Iskierka was more likely to breathe fire than to scream. And his service in the Corps had brought many exciting moments. This, however, was not one of them.

Granby stood at the rail of the _Allegiance_ , staring at the sea. It looked much as it had the day before, perhaps a few more clouds in the sky. Granby had eight months of this monotony to look forward to, thanks to Iskierka, who had effectively kidnapped him in her impulsive bid to corner Temeraire and make him give her an egg. Temeraire would probably acquiesce, Granby thought, just to avoid dying of boredom as they sailed towards the colony of New South Wales.

Granby had just been settling into a discreet relationship with Augustine Little when Iskierka tricked him into going flying with her. When he realized that she had no intention of returning to land and was in fact trying to catch the _Allegiance,_ he felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. Why, Little might think Granby had abandoned him to chase after Will Laurence! Or consider him the worst captain ever, a man with no control over his dragon.

Rum. He needed more rum. Or some paper. He had to write to Gus. But what would he say and how would he say it? He could not risk their lives to save their hearts.

%%%

Little and Immortalis had been patrolling the same part of the English Channel with Chenery and Dulcia for several days now. They were all bored, and Little was heartsick at the sudden loss of Granby. They flew in silence. Little’s first lieutenant, Shepherd, had never been much of a conversationalist before the invasion, and he had been silent as the grave for weeks. Little hardly felt like making the effort to draw him out.

The likelihood of Napoleon attacking across the Channel now was slim, but really, it didn’t do to underestimate the man. Boney never did what one expected—or if he did, he somehow did it faster than one had thought possible. Nevertheless, this watching and waiting was the dull part of military service, something he had never considered as a lad in London, watching the bright-colored couriers come and go. But part of the service it was, and he would do his duty.

Little amused himself on days like these by writing elaborate letters to John in his head, full of the thoughts that he could never put down on paper, much less post. _I miss you._ No, _I miss_ _your warm body, darling_. Better, but John wasn’t just a warm body to him. _I miss waking up with you so warm in my arms, your cock hard against my leg._ Excellent _._

Yesterday he had had received his first letter from Granby, all hearty and superficial, mostly complaining of Iskierka’s behavior and commenting on the weather. He would have to be grateful for each shallow missive he received— _Today we came within sight of the Rock of Gibraltar. Last night I won 21 Pennies from Laurence and Tharkay at Cards. Stormy Weather. . . clear skies . . . Iskierka went fishing with Temeraire . . . threatened to light the Ship afire . . ._

%%%

Granby had only been in New South Wales for a few weeks when the _Beatrice_ arrived from England, carrying a letter from Gus and, unfortunately, Jeremy Rankin. This would be the second letter that Granby had received, the first having arrived when the _Allegiance_ was passed by a faster ship. He checked to see how long the _Beatrice_ expected to stay in port and then hustled off to find some privacy to read his letter.

_Granby, you old Dog, I hope this finds you well. We continue in our usual Work along the Coast. Messoria’s burns are nearly healed and she has taken a Trial Flight without further Injury. All is quiet here: Bonaparte has taken to attacking Cities in southern Spain and Admiral Roland thinks he may soon try for a Foothold in Portugal. Indeed, we may find ourselves posted there to push him out._

John read the letter three times, then lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, dragging his fingers lightly over the fall of his breeches. “Gus,” he thought. “Oh, Gus, I miss you.” He could still feel the shivery thrill that had run through him at Gus's touch, so many months ago. “Touch me,” he whispered, unbuttoning slowly. “Yes. That’s so good.” He fumbled with the fall, barely getting his cock out before he went off. “Gus . . . Gus, Gus!” he gritted out, trying to be quiet. Failing. Shooting into his hand. Groaning as he slicked his cock with his come and stroked himself until he had to stop.

%%%

Travel by sea was very dull, Little thought, as the dragon transport carrying Lily’s formation headed south towards Portugal. How had John stayed sane for eight months of this? Rum, he supposed. Little had received one letter written from New South Wales, and he was grateful to know that Granby had arrived safely. From his descriptions, the colony was a beautiful place, but the colonists were a wretched, dissipated lot whose most noteworthy feat to date had been deposing Governor Bligh with the aid of the troops stationed there, affectionately known as the Rum Corps. John had mentioned a public-house brawl in passing. Apparently none of the aviators had been visibly injured, for his letter said nothing of Temeraire or Iskierka going on a rampage through Sydney.

Little walked over to Immortalis, who was speaking with Lieutenant Shepherd about fishing for their supper. That was another good thing that Temeraire and Gong Su had brought to the Corps: while some of the older dragons longed for the days when they had a sheep or cow each morning, adding fish and cooked grains to their diet was much cheaper and seemed to make for a more vigorous dragon. Immortalis was not a fussy eater, at any rate. Little rather thought that had kept him alive during the dark days of the plague when some had stopped eating once they could not easily swallow a cow in a couple of bites.

“Shepherd,” he said when the lieutenant had finished his conversation, “Would you care to join us tonight at cards?”

Little was pleased when Lieutenant Shepherd agreed. The man seemed to be in better spirits than he had in Dover after the battle. Little and Immortalis met each other’s eyes and Little smiled. He appreciated the dragon's partnership in looking after his crew.

%%%

_Iskierka is up to her old Tricks again_ , wrote Granby after a few weeks in Sydney. _The main dish, as it were, for Dragons here is a Beast called Kanga-Roo, which does not run but rather hops at a surprising Speed. Its Kick can break a Man’s Leg. But Iskierka dislikes the Taste and complains bitterly of the fine Cows she could be eating. Laurence has had a Letter from Roland telling of the Economies back home, but that was little Help, for Temeraire mentioned the delicious Elephants he had eaten in Africa, and now Iskierka does nothing Day and Night but talk of going into the Interior to look for Elephants. It’s enough to make me fear another Kidnapping._

_It looks as though we shall be here a while longer. The_ Allegiance _is getting an entire new Mast, and Temeraire has so far refused to give Iskierka an Egg. Laurence is doing his Utmost to avoid being pulled into the political Machinations, but the former Governor and the Rebels who have taken Control of the Colony both want his Support, or, rather, Temeraire’s. The rebel governor, MacArthur, has at least enough Sense to suggest to Laurence that if he does not want to be pursued as a Pawn, he might go exploring for a way over the Mountains and into the Interior. Rankin and Tharkay are going with him and a dozen Convicts on an Expedition of about a Fortnight, and I have decided to accompany them to forestall Iskierka’s Scheming. Laurence is not the only one who feels like a Pawn._

%%%

The fighting outside Lisbon was in full swing, now that General Junot had stopped trying to outflank Wellington and had committed his troops to the attack. The combined British and Portuguese ground forces outnumbered the French, but they were evenly matched in the air.

Little had Lieutenant Shepherd ready to lead a boarding party if an opportunity presented itself. There was a Pêcheur-Couronné that looked like a good target, her captain just a touch more impulsive than was wise. Chenery must have seen it too, for Dulcia darted toward the French dragon, tempting her out of position. “Get ready,” Little said tensely to Shepherd and Immortalis. They were combat testing the leather straps developed by Tharkay and Gherni in an attempt to make boarding less of an all or nothing proposition.

“Go!” Immortalis dived closer and the boarders were away. A bigger Pêcheur came at them then and Little was more than occupied with fighting off that attack until Lily could score her with acid. The second Pêcheur cried out and retreated, and Little could see that Shepherd and Midwingman Turner were closing in on the French captain, a pair of riflemen holding off the rest of the Pêcheur’s crew.

“Call for support,” Little ordered Ensign Downes, and the red and green pennant went up. Nitidus was closest. Feinting a snatch at the French captain, he drew the Pêcheur-Couronné’s attention and Shepherd was able to disarm the man and hold his blade at his neck, shouting “Rendez-vous!” “Je me rends,” said the captain, his shoulders slumping.

The battle was soon over, despite the best efforts of some of the allied ground troops to throw victory away by charging recklessly after a routed French battalion. Once they had made camp, Little reported to Admiral Roland.

“The straps worked well, though some of my boarders found them a bit awkward.”

“Nothing awkward about capturing a middleweight without losing a man. Tell Lieutenant Shepherd that was well done.” said Roland.

Afterwards, Little checked on Immortalis, who had scarcely taken a scratch, then found something to eat and took it to his tent. He was too tired for the campfire tonight.

It was pleasant to drift off to sleep thinking of kissing John. It had been over a year since the short time they had had together, but Gus could still conjure the peace and contentment that had filled him. Well, and the desire, but those memories would keep until morning. He tucked his thumb under his jaw in the gesture that reminded him of John’s touch and slept.

%%%

To date, their luck with eggs in New South Wales had been poor. Caesar had immediately latched on to Rankin and seemed to be a selfish schemer—he was clearly smarter than Rankin, anyway. The theft of the Yellow Reaper egg in the interior of the continent was another blow, and now only the stunted egg remained. Granby had returned to Sydney briefly to let MacArthur and Captain Riley know the expedition had taken an unexpected turn, now searching for the native people who had taken the egg. While in the city, he had posted another letter to Gus, written in dribs and drabs on their travels, and one from Laurence to Roland. Riley had allowed that Granby could take a few more weeks, something to do with the monsoon season, and MacArthur and Johnston were still in power, the response to Bligh’s removal still not yet received from England.

After a day’s rest, Granby and Iskierka set out to return to their party, following the rock piles left as signposts. It was fast but dull flying, and John felt his mind wandering to Gus. His thoughts wavered from one extreme to the other: he wondered how well he even knew Gus—Augustine couldn’t possibly be his real name, could it? Then John remembered the feeling of that hot mouth on his cock and imagined spending himself there. There were so many things they hadn’t yet done!

New South Wales was . . . a difficult place. They caught up with Laurence & Co. just after Temeraire had narrowly escaped the joint peril of quicksand and a bunyip attack. The stunted egg had hatched a beast that could not fly, though Laurence assured him that the poor creature looked much better than it had at first and that Dorset, the surgeon, thought it might well gain the use of its wings. Demane had been running himself ragged hunting for the young dragon, whom he had named Kulingile. In his native Xhosa, it meant All is Well.

%%%

_Gus had the head of John’s cock in his mouth and was sliding his hand, slick with gun oil, up the shaft. He was going to do it this time—he would suck John and stroke him until he came to completion in his mouth. He had been unsure about that in Dover, so they had done other things, very nice things, but now he was ready. John’s cock was hard against his lips and tongue, yet the skin was silky-smooth. He loved how his touch made John moan. Gus worked his hand down to his lover’s sac, spreading the oil there as well. John groaned louder. Gus would have shushed him, but his mouth was too full to speak. He could feel the tension building in his own balls, the pleasure tightening every muscle._

Gus woke to damp sheets, again. He sighed, missing John deeply. Lily’s formation had been rotated back to Dover for more patrol duty after several months of fighting in Portugal and Southern Spain. It was a welcome respite, but a dull one, though now there was a fair chance that Napoleon might make a foray across the Channel to test their defenses. He washed his face and pulled on clean clothes. He wanted to get out to Immortalis’s clearing a bit early, as he had some additional work managing the crew now that Lieutenant Shepherd had been promoted to a heavyweight and Midwingman Turner made Lieutenant. She was settling into the position well, however, and the crew respected her. He was relieved that Shepherd had weathered the emotional storm that was the aftermath of the invasion for so many. In truth, not every veteran had done so. Some had had to be reassigned to ground crews, and others had disappeared, died recklessly in combat, or simply faded away.

%%%

_A great deal of News to share with you, Little,_ wrote Granby from Sydney. _I am for Madras with the Allegiance. Many Aviators are grounded there, after the Dragon Plague, and I shall have a Crew again!_

_You will never guess what we discovered on the northern Coast of the Continent—a Port run jointly by the Native People and some Chinese Gentlemen. They are receiving Goods at a truly alarming Pace from China, by virtue of a most unusual Method of Transportation, namely, tamed Sea Serpents. You will think I jest, but it is Truth. I suppose if the unharnessed Dragons can hire themselves out as Carters on Land, why should Sea Serpents not do the same on the Ocean?_

Granby wasn’t in Madras very long before orders came to return to Sydney, pick up Laurence and Temeraire, and head for Brazil. Apparently, the Admiralty felt that Laurence might be able to resolve the thorny matter of the alliance between Napoleon and the Tswana that had led to a confrontation in Rio just when the Portuguese royal family had taken refuge there. Laurence had been restored to his former rank, but Granby was certain that the Admiralty still considered him a problem that they would rejoice to be rid of, should that come to pass.

_My dear Little,_ he wrote. _We are for Brazil. You and I may yet see Service on the same Continent again! The World seems a much larger Place than in our Youth. Why, in less than ten Years I have been to China, New South Wales, and now South America, not to mention all over our own fair Country. Temeraire has still not given Iskierka an Egg, but she maintains Hope that her fondest Desire will come to Fruition._

%%%

“Thank you for seeing me, Admiral,” said Little.

“Of course, Captain,” she replied. “What can I do you for?”

“Have you had word of our friends in New South Wales? They are regular correspondents, but I have not heard from any of them lately.”

“Oh, I had a letter from Laurence, but that was some months ago. We sent dispatches to Madras around that time ordering Granby to meet Laurence in Sydney and head for Brazil. You may have heard that he’s been pardoned and reinstated.”

“Yes, that was very good news.” Nothing since they left Sydney with the _Allegiance_ , Little thought.

“You’d think a faster ship would have passed them along the way and picked up the post,” said Roland. “Ah, well, Laurence has a way of showing up when he’s least expected and most needed. Between you, me, and the wall, we’ll be sending a formation to Rio to back them up. Or head them off, ha.”

%%%

Three times John Granby started a letter to Gus Little:

_We’ve weathered a long storm at sea..._

_You won’t believe what Iskierka has been up to in Peru!_

_I’ve injured my arm, but it’s getting better..._

%%%

“Gus, my arm, is it still there? It hurts.”

“The Sapa Inca won’t want to marry me now. Upside of losing an arm.”

“Where are you, Gus? Help me sit up.”

“I told Iskierka to flame her wounds. Even if it burned me. I’m burning.”

“I had to tell Laurence, Gus. He knows.”

“I can’t marry an Empress. I’m married to Iskierka.”

“Better to marry than to burn. No, no, not that.”

“Gus, are you there?”

“John,” said Laurence awkwardly, “It’s all right. Try to rest.”

%%%

“Will.

“John, glad to have you back with us. You were burning with fever.”

Granby tensed. What had he said?

“Nobody pays the slightest attention to feverish ramblings, of course,” Laurence said. “If we did, we’d be asking Iskierka to show us her wedding ring!” He snorted.

“My arm.”

“They took it off above the elbow. You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Lucky. Where are we?”

“Rio de Janeiro.”

%%%

John absolutely had to get word to Gus as quickly as possible—he would be terribly worried! John had started three letters and lost them all between the shipwreck, the desert island, and the flight from Peru.

_We have finally arrived in Rio,_ he wrote. _I am certain that the Admiralty had a more direct Course in mind, but our Luck has been rotten—or very good, I suppose, since we are still alive after all this._

John frowned. It would take too long to tell the whole tale. He would send just this note with the next courier or ship to stop in Rio and then write in more detail later.

“Granby! Granby!” Iskierka was calling him. “There are dragons coming. We might have a battle!”

Same old bloodthirsty Iskierka—getting that egg from Temeraire in Peru hadn’t dampened her love of battle—or treasure—one bit.

Granby dropped the letter and ran outside. Laurence was scanning the sky with his glass and Temeraire, Iskierka, and Kulingile were poised for action.

Suddenly Temeraire bugled joyfully. “It’s Lily and our formation!” he cried. “I can see Maximus!”

“The whole formation,” said Laurence. “All six of them. That is good news indeed.” As they came closer, he passed the glass to Granby. John could see Immortalis and then he made out Gus’s face. He was waving happily. Granby waved back, and Iskierka shot flame into the sky.

%%%

Gus could hear Iskierka and Temeraire roaring to welcome them. Immortalis, usually a quiet fellow, replied in kind.

“Pretty exciting, eh, Mort?!”

“Very,” Immortalis said in his deadpan way.

They landed outside the British aviators’ camp on a hill overlooking the city. “Turner, supervise the unloading, if you would please, and set up camp,” said Little. “I’m going to check in with Harcourt and Laurence.”

“And John!” he thought.

Finally, after two years, they were face to face again. “Little, good to see you!” Granby said heartily, pulling him into an embrace.

"John, oh John, I missed you,” he said, as quietly as he could, then shouted “Hullo, Granby!” and slapped his back a few times. Which was when he noticed that John’s left arm ended in a metal hook.

“Long story,” said John.

Fortunately, Laurence was still embracing Chenery, Gus saw, so as far as any observers would know, it was nothing out of the ordinary for a reunion of comrades in arms. Arm. John said, “Oh, Gus. . .” so gently that it was with great difficulty that Gus made himself let go when Laurence stepped back from Chenery.

The logistics of making camp and joining forces separated them for a time, but when the aviators gathered for supper, Gus scooped up an extra mug of grog for John, knowing he’d have trouble managing more than a plate. He made his way over to the rough circle of logs around the fire and dropped down next to John, on his right side.

“Thank you,” John said, as their fingers brushed. Gus could see Laurence looking off to their right, where the food was being prepared. Nothing to see here.

As the officers finished eating by firelight, Laurence began to brief the newcomers on the tense political situation. Gus dropped his hand onto the log between him and John. After a minute, John’s fingers stroked his hand. It felt really good, but Gus wanted more.

“Come with me to see Mort afterwards,” he whispered. John nodded.

That night, they finally, finally lay in each other’s arms again. Immortalis and Iskierka had schemed up a few minutes of privacy for them, courtesy of the former's sheltering wing and the latter’s well-timed histrionics, but nothing compared to a tent of their own, the feeling of skin on skin after so damn long. It was definitely not too cold to sleep naked.

%%%

In the morning, they had to drag themselves apart and try to resolve the current political dilemma, which was important, but really so much less appealing than making love. Napoleon, who seemed to have a finger in every pie in the world, had offered the Tswana the use of two dragon transports for their return to Africa. The Brazilian nobility were furious that the Tswana had swooped in and absconded with their slaves. The Tswana general Mogotsi was coldly polite as he insisted that his kin would never again suffer in chains. The Brazilians, led by Dom Soares da Câmara, were not negotiating from a position of strength, having no dragons that could stand up to the Tswana heavyweight Kefentse.

The British hoped to enlist the Tswana to fight off Napoleon’s Incan allies, who were already on the march towards Brazil. Some of the Tswana were willing to settle in Brazil, but those who had family back in Africa wanted to return, and the only ships near Rio large enough to carry Tswana dragons and their human kinfolk were the French transports. The British had little to offer the Tswana—unless they captured the transports without damaging them. That was John’s idea, and it proved to be the way out of their political conundrum. (John hadn’t paid much attention in the schoolroom, but he was pretty sure “conundrum” was Latin for “mess.”)

The crews of the French transports, and the frigates protecting them, were prepared for a frontal assault, so the plan was to sneak in quietly at night with all hands—including eight year old Sipho and Gong Su—and nullify the defenses before the French could rouse themselves. Granby and Midwingman Roland commanded fishing boats carrying dragon-sized chainmail netting, which they draped over the portholes of the transports’ guns to prevent them from firing.

Laurence led one boarding party with a navy lieutenant and Berkeley leading the other. All was proceeding according to plan, until a giant French sailor came at Laurence with a cutlass. Laurence was off-balance, his sword arm encumbered by a fallen Frenchman while the huge sailor came at him. He threw up his other arm to protect his head, but instead of maiming him, the Frenchman collapsed on top of him, hot blood gushing from his chest. Gong Su wiped off his deboning knife and offered Laurence a hand.

The transports had bags of caltrops hanging from the yard-arms, which Little and Chenery were assigned to retrieve. These spiked metal tripods could be dropped to discourage dragons from landing on the ships, as they were sharp and, however they landed, would always have a spike pointing up. As soon as they had snuck aboard the transports, Little and Chenery climbed the rigging and gathered the caltrops. They bundled them up in sacks and Temeraire carried them off. Little watched as Iskierka heated them up and Temeraire dropped them onto the decks of the French frigates, which were trying to defend the transports. Dulcia, the smallest in the formation, sat on the transport’s railing and threw French sailors overboard.

In the end, the boarding parties successfully captured the transports without much damage to the ships. Temeraire and Maximus both were hit by cannonballs from one of the frigates, but the dragon surgeon pronounced them out of danger. Temeraire was grounded for at least three weeks and Maximus, whose injuries were more extensive, for three months at a minimum.

If any time during the war was a good time for Gong Su to reveal himself as Prince Mianning’s spy and ambassador and to present Laurence with an invitation to visit the royal family in China, it was now. With the formation down two heavyweights, they would not be going into battle any time soon. The opportunity to gain the assistance of the Chinese air forces against Napoleon could not be passed up. And, to be fair, it was a wonderful excuse not to sail back to England and face criticism for their method of resolving the crisis in Brazil.

%%%

It was Gus’s idea, how they celebrated after the battle, with a little help from Gong Su. Gus was hanging around the cookfires, trying to keep his hands, if not his eyes, off John.

“I could really use some more cacau beans,” Gong Su said. “They grow on trees in large pods: have you seen them, Captain Little?”

“I think I have. Granby would know what they look like. Would you like us to find some for you?”

“They are very good for the heart,” said Gong Su, “and one can make a delicious spicy drink with them.”

“We can do that. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours. I’ll just clear it with Harcourt and Laurence.”

John was more than happy to take a few sacks and scamper off into the rainforest with Gus while Iskierka and Immortalis napped in a nearby clearing. They found some ripe banana fruit, which Temeraire loved, and enough cacau pods for a small army. Which the aviators were, a very small army. Of which Gus and John were the advance scouts. Of course, the only thing they were scouting at the moment was each other’s naked bodies.

Gus straddled John on a bed of ferns, slowly rubbing their cocks together. It was lovely to be able to make a little noise—in camp they had to be as silent as possible. Of course, the sounds of men jerking off were nothing new, but a man calling out another man’s name in passion? Not so much.

“I want to suck you off, John,” said Gus, leaning over and kissing him.

John buried his hand in Gus’s thick, curly hair. “Please, yes,” he said between deep kisses. “I’ll tell you . . . when I’m getting close.”

“All right, but I want you to finish in my mouth.”

“I . . . want that. Are you sure?”

“Yes,” said Gus, looking him in the eye, then sliding down to take John’s cock in his mouth.

As he licked around the head and started to sink lower, Gus was a bit anxious, but he remembered sitting on the bed in Dover with John between his knees. A shiver of desire went through him at the memory.

“Oh, God, that’s really good,” John gasped. “Don’t try to take it all. Use your hand, too.”

“Aaa’igh,” said Gus. He took John as far as he could and fell into a rhythm with his hand and mouth. Gus could feel John trembling beneath him as he fought the urge to thrust up.

“Close,” John gasped, and his hand clenched on Gus’s shoulder. Then he was coming, shooting into Gus’s mouth. Gus coughed and sat back, spitting and then swallowing what was left in his mouth. It tasted odd but not bad. He licked his lips, spat again, and grinned.

“Come here,” said John, lying bonelessly in the ferns. Gus draped himself over his lover and stroked his hair. He tried not to rub himself against John’s hip, but that was a losing battle. After a couple of minutes, John roused enough to get his hand on Gus’s arse and give it a good squeeze. His fingers grazed Gus’s hole, drawing a moan and more fervent rocking. Gus began to whimper as he got close, and when he came, it was with a shout.

Through the haze of orgasm, he heard Immortalis asking Iskierka (in what passed for a quiet tone among dragons) if they ought to check on their captains. 

Despite the risk of nosy, overprotective dragons listening in, Gus had something he had wanted to tell John for a long time. He had nearly worked up to doing so in Dover, but then Iskierka had kidnapped John.

“John,” he said quietly. “My name, the name my parents gave me, is Chaim. It means life.”

“Chaim,” John said, doing a creditable job with the guttural sound. “It suits you, my life.”

The End

Until CMOTScribbler gives me another idea!

Bonus Alternate Ending

“John,” he said quietly. “My name, the name my parents gave me, is Chaim. It means life.”

“Chaim,” John said, doing a creditable job with the guttural sound. “It suits you, my life.”

Iskierka snorted. "What am I, chopped liver?!"

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Facts
> 
> The historical Battle of Vimiero took place near Lisbon in 1808. Wellington, who was still Wellesley at that time IRL, faced off against General Junot. The French troops were outnumbered and Junot tried to be clever, but his moves were badly coordinated, according to General Wikipedia. Wellesley's responses were quick, but his troops weren't very disciplined and did some unwise charging and celebrating. British riflemen overwhelmed French skirmishers (Team Sharpe for the win!), and the allied troops were victorious--but then had to give the French ridiculously generous terms because politics.
> 
> The original meaning of kidnap, dating from the late seventeenth century, was "steal children to provide servants to the American colonies," from kid, "child," and nap, "snatch away." 
> 
> As described in Tongues of Serpents, William Bligh of Mutiny on the Bounty fame did actually become governor of the NSW colony and was deposed by MacArthur, Johnston, et al. not too long after. If you were surprised that the colonists in Tongues of Serpents didn't get official word from England for over a year after the revolt, in real life it took nearly two years. Wow. Also: New South Wales, Not Safe for Work, huh.
> 
> Gun oil as lubricant: dare I Google this? Yes, yes, I do. You can purchase Gun Oil brand lube online: “When you encounter heavy action, this premium lubricant keeps your most important weapon well oiled. The concept for this high-tech formula was deployed by Marines from Operation Desert Storm who lubed up with actual military-issue gun oil in the trenches of the Kuwaiti battlefields. Gun Oil won't dry out and provides a long-lasting glide. Perfect for face-to-face maneuvers or solo missions.”
> 
> It is never too cold to sleep naked in a tent in Rio. But sometimes it rains a lot.
> 
> Per Wikipedia, a caltrop is an area denial weapon (what a term!) made up of two or more sharp nails or spines arranged in such a manner that one of them always points upward from a stable base. Historically, caltrops were part of defenses that served to slow the advance of troops, especially horses, chariots, and war elephants, and were particularly effective against the soft feet of camels. In modern times, caltrops are effective when used against wheeled vehicles with pneumatic tires.
> 
> I was thinking about Gong Su making use of native plants in his cooking, so I did a bit of research and wow. “Brazil is one of the world's mega-diverse locations with over 40,000 different plant species representing 20% of the world's flora. The country was visited in the 19th century by European travelers and naturalists, who described the use of native plant species as food. In this study, data on 67 species was recovered from historical documents and bibliographies.” Cacao (cacaueiro, cacau) has more known medicinal applications than anything else on the list: “Several studies confirmed anticancer, antidiabetic, anti-inflammatory, antioxidant and cardioprotective activities.” Of course, who wouldn’t study chocolate, given the opportunity? https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0963996912001123
> 
> After you pick your cacao beans and roast them, you can eat them or make them into a delicious and healthy drink by grinding the roasted beans, mashing them into a paste, and mixing with “water, spicy pepper, cardamom, aniseed, and vanilla,” according to this article: https://www.onegreenplanet.org/natural-health/magical-ways-to-enjoy-healthy-cacao-beans/


End file.
